It’s not a show to avoid tough topics, but throughout the week Liveline (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) has a decidedly fluffy feel, as Katie Hannon tends to all manner of sheep-related stories.
On Monday the guest host learns of the threat posed by errant dogs to flocks around the country. On Tuesday she expands on the ovine theme, hearing about the demands that lambing season puts on farmers, while musing at length on how to pronounce the word “ewe”. And on Wednesday the presenter inevitably turns her attention to the spectacle of TDs acting the goat in the Dáil.
Following the uproar in Leinster House over the allocation of speaking time for Government-supporting Independent deputies, Hannon canvasses callers for their opinions on “that carry-on in the Dáil”, her request garnering suitably unimpressed responses.
“Disgraceful, utterly disgraceful. They’re acting like children,” says Teresa. “I don’t know that many children would get away with what Michael Lowry was doing,” the host replies, referring to the Tipperary TD’s suspiciously backwards V-for-victory gesture. “They were like a pack of monkeys in a circus,” suggests another caller, Sarah, though her comparison possibly impugns the behaviour of big-top simians.
That reactions are so negative is hardly surprising: it doesn’t take much to whip up outrage among the Liveline faithful. Less predictable is Hannon’s adroit handling of her guests, using their indignation as a cue to highlight concerns they deem more pressing than parliamentary speaking rights.
Hence Teresa bemoans the lack of support she feels as a low-paid carer for her husband, who has had dementia for 15 years, while Sarah discusses the need to attract more foster parents for the 6,000 children in care in Ireland.
It’s a neat way of contrasting people’s everyday needs with the high political dudgeon gripping the Dáil. By focusing on her callers’ stories rather than stoking up their ire, Hannon keeps the discussion grounded. But as a seasoned political reporter herself, she can’t help the odd acid observation. “I cannot remember a Dáil of TDs being as exercised about anything as speaking rights,” she says, voicing disbelief that “this is the issue that has riled them up”.
When she’s not bemoaning the priorities of politicians, Hannon is in far more benevolent form, showing off her easy radio persona. Her segment on the pressures sheep farmers face during the current lambing season is chatty in tone yet revealing. Amid a cacophony of bleating – from lambs on this occasion, not TDs – she speaks to James, a Co Laois farmer, who describes his relentless schedule at this time of year. “It never stops,” he says, sounding cheerful nonetheless.
If there’s any hint of contention, it’s when a listener protests at Hannon’s pronouncing of ewe as “yo” rather than “you”. A debate follows about the word’s proper rendering – “yo” emerges as the preferred choice, especially among farmers – as well as other contested terms, such as scone.
Again, a pattern emerges, with the baked treat rhyming with “gone” in the North and with “cone” south of the Border. Both sides deem the alternative pronunciation a bit posh.
It’s all very diverting and quirkily informative – “great fun”, in Hannon’s words – but the discussion also notes the way diction is changing in an ever more connected world. “I do think the regional accents are being evened out,” the host remarks before invoking vernacular terms from her upbringing, such as a gabháil of turf. (Hannon references her native north Co Kerry as much as Joe Duffy mentions Ballyfermot.)
As to the broader point of whether there’s a right or wrong way to speak, Hannon adopts a pragmatic attitude: “You have to use the language that people understand and accept.”
Of course, the mood in the Dáil is anything but understanding and accepting, but a tone of palpable excitement runs through coverage of the impasse. On Drivetime (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) Cormac Ó hEadhra sounds almost giddy as he describes the “absolute pandemonium” of Tuesday’s scenes. “This row has literally brought the Dáil to its knees,” the presenter gasps, metaphorically describing the situation.
Ó hEadhra may be animated by the ongoing row, but his interviews with Opposition and Government figures make clear just how bitterly entrenched the stand-off has become. The People Before Profit TD Richard Boyd Barrett sounds genuinely livid if slightly hyperbolic when he describes the Government’s stroke as a “coup d’etat”, while the Labour deputy Alan Kelly talks angrily of “democracy being destabilised and damaged”.
Not to be outdone, Minister for Arts and Media Patrick O’Donovan calls the tactics of Opposition parties “an assault on democracy”, when speaking to Sarah McInerney on Wednesday’s show.
The Fine Gael Minister, rarely a shrinking violet, is in belligerent humour: when his host suggests that giving speaking time to all Coalition backbenchers is a ploy to accommodate Lowry and his fellow Independents, O’Donovan curtly dismisses her. “Unlike you, I was a backbencher,” he says.
That said, McInerney reciprocates the feeling, sighing incredulously when her guest talks of “rebalancing” speaking rights: “Ah, would you stop?”
On such evidence, it’s hard to see a solution any time soon, no matter that the issue at stake might seem arcane to ordinary voters. “Are we not in the realm of the ridiculous here?” Ó hEadhra asks the Independent Ireland TD Richard O’Donoghue on Wednesday, the host’s early animation over the spat obviously fading.
If the row has shattered relations between the Opposition and the Government, it’s further tarnishing the already battered image of politicians with the general public. On Today with Claire Byrne (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), its reporter Maura Fay conducts a telling vox pop on the crisis in Navan, with all respondents sounding deeply disillusioned.
“We’ve entrusted the country to idiots,” says one man. “We’ve only ourselves to blame for voting them in again,” says another. “They’re not doing what the people want,” adds a woman.
Emphasising the point, Byrne notes that Fay interviewed 40 people, “and none of them had anything positive to say”.
Such widespread cynicism should give pause for thought, especially amid a growing populist narrative that elected politicians are disconnected from ordinary people. Compromise might seem a woolly option, but that doesn’t mean it’s the wrong one.
Moment of the week
Continuing his knack for absorbing conversations with unlikely subjects, Oliver Callan (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) speaks to Malachy Robinson, principal bass player with the Irish Chamber Orchestra. Despite its apparently niche appeal, it’s a quietly fascinating interview, as Robinson outlines his musical career and sings the virtues of the double bass. He also demonstrates the difference between playing the richly timbred instrument by bow and by finger, to the host’s audible appreciation. “Lovely plucking,” Callan comments, just a hint of mischief in his voice. Still, at least he didn’t follow the lead of some public representatives and tell his guest to pluck off.
